I’ve always had the tendency to be my own worst enemy. Especially when it comes to my body.
I guess I keep thinking that somehow I can go back to the days when I recover from things quickly and resume my daily life as usual.
But that isn’t always the case. There is no usual anymore. My body is older. It’s tired from injuries and the fact that I push it till I drop.
I was doing well yesterday. I didn’t even have to wear the ankle brace. I wasn’t limping. My sciatic nerve was behaving itself fairly well.
I joined my two lovely daughters for lunch and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Their dad is in the midst of a problem that is very worrisome to them, they explained to me. I could see the concern on their faces.
My older daughter had already emailed a few days ago that she would probably be free to help me with the backsplash on Monday unless something changed on her schedule.
So what do I do?
I come home, feeling good because I was fairly pain free. And worried about my daughters because they’re upset about their dad’s current predicament.
I walk into the kitchen and look at that backsplash and thought: They’re so concerned about their dad. Maybe I can do that backsplash after all and she won’t have to come over Monday.
If I could do it myself, that would take one more thing off her schedule. And that thought felt so good that I told myself I was fine. I could pull this off.
So up I go till I’m sitting on the edge of the counter. I put my feet in the sink. And I start to work on that troublesome corner.
I don’t think I was approaching it quite right. But it was the only way I could think to get the peel and stick tiles to match up.
I ended up getting one up on the wall, albeit a little crooked, and tore the other one. I had to twist myself into a pretzel of sorts to see underneath the cabinets above in order to work below.
And one peel and stick tile tore so badly I had to toss it. Then I had something else to worry about. Would there be enough tiles to do the job? Because I just guessed when I ordered them.
I hope she still will have enough left to do the whole backsplash. It was just the two I used and she very well might have to remove the one that’s adhered to the wall. I think that still leaves 18.
When I eased myself down to the floor in order to stand up I realized I had contorted myself into terrible pain. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I said to myself. I never seem to learn.
I sat down and got online to see if I could order more of the peel and stick tiles in case there now weren’t enough. They’re out of stock.
Heavens, so many things right now are out of stock. You can’t find disinfectant wipes anywhere. They’re absent from the stores. People are in panic mode due to the coronavirus.
Anyway I took a muscle relaxer, which I don’t really think does a thing for the sciatic nerve. My ankle was throbbing. I could barely walk. Again. By the end of the day I noticed my lower right leg and ankle were pretty swollen.
I just want to be independent, take care of myself, not cause them any worry. And I manage to make things worse for all of us.
I keep looking down at the water bowl for the pet babies and thinking: I really want to refresh their water. But how on earth am I going to get down there to get the bowl?
I look at the sunshine outside and think how much I want to be out in it. But the outdoor furniture is still in the middle of the patio so even if I got out there I’d have to remove the things piled on the chairs in order to sit down.
There’s not a chance I’m going to limp out to the car and go anywhere.
So here Charlie and I am together in my recliner. Ivy is laying next to me on the table staring at the shadows on the window.
Charlie’s cough is getting worse and I have to help him climb the steps in the bedroom. He needs me to be physically able to help him.
I wanted to change the sheets and clean this place. All week I’ve been thinking I really need to clean the apartment. Now I’ll be lucky to get to the bathroom and back.
Why on earth do I do this to myself? Why can’t I accept limitations?
Do you do this to yourself?